


Giles/Xander drabbles

by Mireille



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Community: joss100, Community: open_on_sunday, Community: slash_100, Community: smut_69, Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2004-05-02
Updated: 2007-12-18
Packaged: 2019-03-09 13:19:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 81
Words: 17,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13482312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mireille/pseuds/Mireille
Summary: Giles/Xander drabbles/double drabbles/very short ficlets/etc., written over a period of many years in the BtVS fandom.





	1. open_on_sunday: "books"

**Author's Note:**

> Note: I chose "chose not to warn" because things vary so much from drabble to drabble. I'll include warnings in the headers to specific "chapters." (Unsurprisingly, the most common one will be "underage.") 
> 
> I chose "explicit" because some of the drabbles I'll be posting eventually will be--but many of them are T- or M-rated, as well.

Xander still didn't much like books. At least, he didn't really like books to read; liking to read was something for the Willows of the world and not for him. 

But he'd decided he liked the smell of books, at least the really old ones in the library, and so he'd stopped checking out books with semi-nude engravings and started just checking out anything old. 

He never read them, just left them on his nightstand so he could breathe in the scent of old books when he lay in bed at night and absolutely, positively, definitely didn't think about Giles.


	2. open_on_sunday: "endings"

It took the heavy, cream-colored paper, the formal wording spelled out in elaborate script, for it to really sink in with Giles.

Xander and Anya were getting married, and that meant Giles had run out of 'tomorrows' to put off everything he'd been planning to say to Xander for the past few years.

He'd congratulated them when they announced their engagement; he'd been convincingly happy, he thought. But there were thousands of miles between them now, and no one to care if he locked himself in his flat with a bottle for the next three days.

Make that several bottles.


	3. open_on_sunday: "beginnings"

There'd never been any sort of formal invitation issued; Xander had just started coming over when he didn't have anything better to do, and Giles had appreciated the company. He had something to look forward to now, even if it was just random conversation with Xander. And then, as they got more used to one another's company, comfortable silences.

Then uncomfortable silences, the sort that signified being at a complete loss for words, at least on Giles' part, because one day he looked up at Xander, and it struck him, suddenly, that he'd gone and fallen in love with him.


	4. You've Got a Habit of Leaving (open_on_sunday: David Bowie titles)

There was a good reason; there was always a good reason. Buffy was dead, or Buffy didn't need a Watcher any more, or he'd only come back to deal with Willow; there was always a reason for Giles to leave. It was just this thing that Giles did, leaving Sunnydale. 

And leaving Xander went right along with that, but Giles didn't think about that, because Giles didn't know that Xander cared that he left. Didn't know how much Xander wanted him to stay. 

And if he never told Giles, he'd never have to find out if Giles would leave anyway.


	5. Fatal Hesitation (open_on_sunday: "rings")

How long had he been telling himself that this would all go away eventually? It would end, and he and Xander would go back to hesitantly fumbling their way toward whatever they'd been heading for that first autumn after Xander's graduation, before Anya had burst into his apartment uninvited and upset the balance of things. 

He'd kept believing that she'd tire of Xander before long, that she was fickle and capricious and she wouldn't want a permanent attachment, and so he'd been prepared to wait. 

The ring on Anya's finger told Giles that perhaps he shouldn't have been so patient.


	6. open_on_sunday: "patterns" (#1)

He'd spent a great deal of time this past year looking at the floor; he'd memorized the pattern of flecks in the kitchen tile. Not quite meeting Xander's eyes had been a habit; it made keeping secrets easier.

There weren't any secrets now, and when he looked down at the kitchen floor, the pattern didn't make him think of all the secrets he'd tried to keep; it reminded him of Xander, hot and hard and desperately trying to pull Giles deeper inside, and afterward tugging him down to use him as a pillow because, he said, the floor was cold.


	7. open_on_sunday: "patterns" (#2)

Earlier tonight, he hadn't been paying attention; he'd been far too preoccupied with the feel of Xander's skin against his lips, the sound of Xander's frantic moans when his tongue had found the right spot--all the little discoveries that even his years-long study of Xander Harris hadn't made possible before. 

But Xander was asleep now, and Giles had plenty of time to think, and to look at his surroundings. 

And to decide that if Xander didn't want to spend every night at Giles' apartment instead of here, the bright cartoon-ish patterns on Xander's sheets had to go.


	8. open_on_sunday: "lessons"

He'd come to Sunnydale to teach. To guide.

Not for Xander to sing the praises of Evil Dead to him, or to have the finer points of the DC Comics universe described in such detail that he'd actually been tempted to pick up one of Xander's comics. 

Not to realize that he was starting to enjoy Xander's crash course in popular culture. And certainly not to realize that it was the teacher, not the subject, that held his interest.

Of course, as he wasn't a Watcher now, he could always redefine his purpose in being here.


	9. during "Welcome to the Hellmouth"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing happens, but this is during the first episode, so Xander is, at most, 16. Skip this chapter if that bothers you.

He was here to do a job, Giles reminded himself. Buffy would arrive soon. He couldn't afford to let himself be distracted.

He couldn't afford to waste time watching the pair who had just come in: the girl who'd been here before, and the boy...

The boy who was fidgeting instead of studying, and who had a face so marvelously expressive that he couldn't help trying to visualize his expression at the moment when he realized Giles was trying to seduce him.

Luckily, the Slayer would be here soon, and Giles would be able to forget this boy even existed.


	10. S4, somewhere around "Doomed"

Sometimes, it almost made him tired to try to follow Xander to the end of a sentence. 

"I can stay here until it's dark enough for me to kick Spike out, right? You know you're always welcome in the basement-- _my casa is su casa_ , and if that's wrong remember I learned it from watching Sesame Street with Willow."

Then Xander would stop talking, and settle himself at the end of Giles' couch, waiting for Giles to sit next to him and remind Xander, without any words at all, how very all right it was for Xander to be there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do know the Spanish in this is completely wrong. I paid more attention to Sesame Street than Xander did. 
> 
> There ought to be, you know, backstory and so on to this, but in 100 words, one has to cut to the chase.


	11. Prompt:  "Giles/Xander, Xander's missing eye. (No angst.)"

Xander usually slept without the eyepatch; the elastic always got twisted around.

But the first night he spent with Giles, he left it on, though it hadn't been a conscious decision. 

When he woke up, Giles was looking at him with an unfamiliar expression. And then, his stomach sinking, he realized that the patch had slipped out of place during the night. 

He waited for Giles to look away, or say something about the patch, but Giles only smiled, saying, "It's about time you woke up," before kissing him.

The next night, the patch found a place on the nightstand.


	12. set in S2. One-sided pining from Xander.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the chapter title says, set during S2, so Xander is under 18. But this is one-sided pining from Xander, so nothing inappropriate happens.

Xander was good with talking. Not always good with making sense, but opening his mouth and having words come out? Yeah. He was good at that. 

He was good at it before just now, anyway, when Giles had asked if he was all right. Xander had opened his mouth to answer, and _nothing_ had come out. 

Considering that what he'd been thinking was, "Yeah. Uh. Can I kiss you? And if not, can you at least go back to shelving books, so I can go back to what's turning into a disturbingly happy place?" maybe it was a good thing.


	13. four related post-Chosen ficlets

** Summer: Born on the Fourth of July **

"I thought you were at the fireworks with the others," Giles said when he saw that Xander was still in the room. 

Xander shrugged. "You're not." 

He smiled slightly. "The Fourth of July isn't much of a reason to celebrate where I come from." And, to be honest, he was looking forward to being left alone in the room. To conserve funds, they'd all agreed that for the duration of their stay in Cleveland, they'd share rooms. Giles didn't mind, particularly--at least he wasn't rooming with Andrew--but it would have been nice to have some time to himself. 

"It's not where I come from, either," Xander said quietly, looking away. 

And then Giles remembered the tax paperwork he'd had to submit when he hired Anya, the forms that required--along with other fictitious data she'd produced--a birthdate. "We all miss her," he said. Perhaps not everyone, but... he did, exasperating though she could be. "I'll just... I'll leave you alone for a while," he went on, when he realized there wasn't anything else he could say. 

Now Xander looked up at him. "Don't. Please?"

There was nothing he could say, but he could, at least, do that.

****

**  
Fall: Turning Colder  
**

"I can't believe you're sending me to _Africa_ ," Xander muttered. "What happened to 'we couldn't do this without you?'"

"We can't," Giles said. "I need someone I can rely on out there, and I can't think of a better choice than--"

"Than someone you're getting tired of having around the office. I get it. You could have told me before I'd been here three months, though. I almost started feeling comfortable." He shrugged. "Hey, at least it'll be warm there. November in England sucks." 

He turned and stalked off, leaving Giles to feel as though he'd missed something important.

****

**  
Winter: Christmas in Rome  
**

The plan was that they'd all have Christmas in Rome. There'd been a meeting Giles hadn't been able to postpone, and so when he arrived, Buffy's living room was already crowded: Willow and Kennedy sharing an armchair; Buffy dashing around frantically; Dawn and Andrew debating the merits of Scrabble versus Monopoly. 

"I thought I'd be the last one," he said, when he realized Xander wasn't there. 

"You are," Dawn said, around a mouthful of cookie. "Xander bailed." 

Giles told himself he was only disappointed because he knew it was important to the others that they all be together this year.

****

**  
Spring  
**

It was spring before Xander came back to England, accompanying a trio of Slayers who were a little too young to put on a plane by themselves. Once the girls were settled, Xander said, without looking Giles in the eye, "I couldn't get a flight out tonight. You're stuck with me until morning."

"You're leaving tomorrow?"

He nodded. "Six-thirty a.m." 

"I was hoping you'd stay for a few days," Giles said. He'd wanted a little time to sort out whatever had been off-kilter between them since Xander had gone to Africa. He'd wanted the opportunity to sort out in his own mind why that mattered so much--or rather, to confirm what he already knew. 

Xander's only response was a disbelieving snort. 

"I'm sure you'll find this difficult to believe," Giles said, "but I have missed you." 

"That explains why you sent me to Africa," Xander said, and Giles found himself wishing that Xander would look at him. 

"I sent you to Africa because the Council needs you there," Giles said. "But I'd wanted you to stay for a while longer--" and now, finally, Xander looked up, and the final piece of the puzzle clicked into place when Giles saw the hint of hope in his expression--"because I've missed you. And because there are things I think we should talk about." 

There was a long silence, before Xander said, "I could change my flight."

A great deal could change in a year, Giles thought, even _without_ an apocalypse.


	14. Disturbing and Wrong (S1, one-sided )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after "The Pack," so Xander is under 18. But this is one-sided attraction on Xander's part, so nothing actually happens.

It wasn't that he was still hyena-like. No way. Not even a little, and yes, he'd had Giles check his books one day when the girls weren't around, just to be sure. But he'd never really thought about people having smells, before then, except in the "okay, who forgot to shower after gym?" sense. And now, he noticed, sometimes. 

Buffy smells like a different shampoo almost every week, and sometimes she smells like...attic, he thinks, and figures it's dust from a vampire. Willow smells like the same perfume he'd bought her for Christmas in sixth grade. Cordelia smells like perfume, too, but it's something different, something that probably didn't come from the drugstore. 

Giles smells like musty old books, and sometimes tea. In the mornings he smells like soap and aftershave, and after sparring with Buffy, he smells a little like sweat and a lot like antiseptic. Sometimes, when things are going badly, Xander can smell whiskey in with the tea, and he winces and doesn't think about his dad. 

Sometimes, Xander thinks he might possibly pay a little too much attention to what Giles smells like, but then he figures it's only disturbing and wrong if someone finds out.


	15. After Hours (S5; includes Xander/Anya)

There was a sliver of light coming through the door to the back room. Giles stopped, picking up a fertility idol (solid and heavy, and cheap enough that it didn't matter much if it were broken) before edging quietly toward the door. "Anya?" he called, though he couldn't imagine why she'd be here this late. He'd only come back himself because he'd thought of another book to search for a mention of Glory. 

No one responded, and Giles paused, preparing himself for the confrontation. 

That was when he heard them. Two voices: one female, one male, both familiar, and Giles suddenly realized what he was hearing. 

He wouldn't say anything to them. He'd get his book and leave, with no one the wiser. 

Then he heard Xander groan, low and urgent and followed by indistinct words that sounded like a plea, and Giles found himself quite unable to turn away.


	16. Some Nights (S3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in S3; Xander's still in high school, but 18. One-sided attraction.

Xander's made a study of Giles' hands: the size of them, the way his fingers curve around a pen, the un-librarian-like strength. If the world ends any time soon, it'll be at least partly his fault, in fact, because he's spent a lot of research time looking at those hands instead. 

He really doesn't have a choice, though--at least, that's how he sees it. Because sometimes, after a night spent in the library or a cemetery, he can't get home fast enough. Some nights, he locks his bedroom door, shucking off his jeans on his way over to his bed. He buries his face in his pillow to stifle his moans as he jerks off to the thought of those hands--Giles' hands--on him, too needy, at that moment, to feel guilty that he's not thinking about Cordelia. 

He has to study Giles' hands. If the fantasy is as close as he's ever going to get to Giles touching him, then he wants it to be as accurate as he can get it.


	17. Declines, with Regrets (S6)

Dark-haired boys catch his eye, sometimes--broad-shouldered boys with hair just a bit too long and starting to curl at their collars, young men in baggy trousers and gaudy shirts. 

Sometimes the sight stops Giles in his tracks, until he remembers that this is half a world away from Sunnydale, and it's improbable that Xander would be here. 

When he sorts through the day's post and finds the heavy cream-colored envelope holding the wedding invitation, he doesn't hesitate before filling out the reply card, checking the space next to the words _declines, with regrets_. 

Not improbable, he corrects himself. Impossible.


	18. A Day Late (set during "All the Way"; includes Xander/Anya)

It had been the right moment. He'd looked over at Anya, and he'd been absolutely _sure_ , for the first time, of what he was doing. 

And then he'd talked to Giles. Or, really, listened to Giles. Who was, to be fair, doing a good job of being supportive-guy, so it wasn't his fault. 

It was just that Xander thought he'd got a glimpse of something else behind the I'm-so-happy-for-you, something that Xander had wanted to see, but had stopped hoping for a long time ago. 

Something that got rid of all the "absolutely sure" and replaced it with "oh, god, I think I screwed up."

Fear demons? Getting turned into army-guy? That was nothing. _This_ , without even any supernatural influence, was the worst Halloween ever.


	19. immediately post-S6

Giles could have died. 

The world could have ended, too, but right then, that wasn't the point. Giles could have _died_ , and Xander wouldn't have been able to keep the promise he'd made to himself a few weeks ago. If he ever saw Giles again, he'd told himself, he'd actually _say_ something, instead of just hoping Giles could read his mind. 

He'd do it tonight. Willow was okay-ish, as okay as she was going to be until Giles got her to that coven he'd been talking about; they were leaving in the morning. He'd tell Giles tonight. They were all--Giles and Buffy and Dawn and him, anyway; Willow didn't leave her room--having dinner here; he and Dawn were supposed to be taking care of that, which meant they were having pizza. After dinner, he'd offer to walk back to the hotel with Giles. That was when Xander would tell him, once they were away from the girls.

It'd give Giles time to think, if he needed it, while he got Willow settled in England, so that when he came back....

"I don't get why Giles isn't coming back," Dawn said, reaching for another cookie. 

"He's not?"

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Duh. Where have you been?"

Xander shrugged. "Planet Stupid, I guess," he said, and decided that Giles could walk home by himself tonight.


	20. post-Chosen (references to canon het relationships)

You don't get two chances at happily-ever-after. 

Okay, Buffy did, because after Angel left, there'd been Riley, and then (eventually, but he was skipping over the stuff that made him doubt Buffy's sanity and _still_ want to stake Spike) this Immortal guy her last phone calls had been full of. 

And Willow and Kennedy seemed to be happy, too, so maybe it was just him that didn't get two chances. 

Him and Giles, because Giles hadn't even seemed to put all that much effort into happily-ever-after, not for a long time. At least Xander had _tried_. Failed, but tried. 

But because it was just the two of them that weren't all happy-couple-y (he didn't count Dawn, because Dawn was going to be too young to date until she was fifty), Xander tended to take his weeks of leave in England. There wasn't anything for him in America, anyway, and at least this way he could be miserable with company. 

And when Giles asked him if he'd had enough of field work, Xander didn't have to think twice about coming back to England for good, to work with the Slayers there. And if he saw a lot of Giles while he was there, that was a bonus. Better than the both of them having to be alone all the time, definitely. 

It really hadn't been all that surprising that one of the times that he'd turned up at Giles' place just in time for dinner, he'd wound up staying the night. He was lonely. Giles was lonely. They understood each other, and sometimes that was what you needed. And if "sometimes" had turned into "almost every night," whose business was that?

He hadn't been prepared for the morning when he'd looked over at Giles, who was tying his tie and not paying him any attention at all, and realized that he wanted to do this for the rest of his life. 

He'd been even less prepared when it turned out that he'd said that last part out loud, and Giles turned around, smiling a little, and said, "I wouldn't mind that at all."

Love, apparently, had a way of sneaking up on you.


	21. post-Chosen fluff

"Why does it always rain when I'm here?"

"It didn't rain last time." Giles said, joining Xander at the window. 

"It was January. It _snowed_." Xander sighed. "It's dark, it's raining, and it's cold. Who wants to leave the house on a day like this?"

Giles smiled, slipping his arms around Xander's waist and kissing the back of his neck. "We were planning to go out?" he murmured, one hand trailing down to brush across the front of Xander's jeans. 

"Suddenly," Xander said, and Giles didn't have to see his face to know he was grinning--"I'm rain's number-one fan."


	22. post-Chosen

There wasn't much he didn't know about Xander, Giles had thought, not after so many years. That was one of the reasons this had been a good decision, he'd believed; there were no surprises between them.

That was before tonight, before he'd realized there was a great deal left for him to learn about Xander, before he'd begun a painstaking study of every inch of Xander's skin, of the right combination of words and touches and kisses to leave Xander moaning and gasping and begging him for more. 

Tonight he'd decided there was still room in his life for surprises.


	23. set during S4

It wasn't that surprising that they would gravitate toward one another: both at loose ends, both feeling left behind, both--at least, Giles suspected it wasn't only him--wondering if this was really all there was going to be to life now. 

With all that time spent together, even when there was no compelling reason for it, it made perfectly good sense to Giles that he'd realize, at some point, that he and Xander were becoming friends. It was all quite logical. 

Even though sometimes, when Xander was helping him rearrange books, or they were going over the few scraps of information they had about the commandos, he'd catch a flash of something else in Xander's eyes, something Giles was relatively certain was reflected back in his own. 

It wasn't logical, and it was surprising, and even though they never acknowledged it, it wasn't about friendship at all. Not really.


	24. For the Holidays  (post-Chosen)

When Buffy called to say that Dawn was going to stay in Rome with one of her friends from school, and that the Immortal wanted to take her to Greece for a week, Giles was disappointed, to say the least, although he tried not to let her know. He'd wanted her to grow up and become independent, and he couldn't complain when Buffy had done just that. 

When Andrew brought him a printed-out e-mail from Willow saying that she thought that she and Kennedy were going to go to Rio for the holidays, he was resigned. He'd known Willow would only come if the others did; she still wasn't entirely comfortable with him, and besides, it wasn't as though she celebrated Christmas. 

When Xander called to find out whether Giles still wanted him there without the girls, though--that was definitely relief. And then a touch of nervousness, when he realized that he'd have no excuse not to have the conversation with Xander that he'd been promising himself they'd have at the earliest opportunity. 

And when Buffy felt guilty and dragged Dawn to England, arriving on Giles' doorstep on Boxing Day, she was in for a bit of a surprise.


	25. Dream a Little Dream (post-Chosen)

"Xander, wake up." Giles' hand was on his shoulder, and Xander guessed it was just his imagination that made the touch feel like it was burning through his shirt. Imagination and maybe a little guilt, because he was supposed to be researching those commando guys, not dreaming about Giles and him going up that short flight of stairs into the bedroom. 

Actually, in tonight's dream, they hadn't made it to the bedroom; they'd been on the stairs, and--

And if dreaming about that when he was supposed to be reading was bad, daydreaming about it when Giles was right there was even worse. "I'm awake," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"It's three in the morning," Giles said. "Go home." And then, Giles leaned in and kissed him--just a brush of his lips against Xander's, but definitely a kiss. 

Xander looked up at him in confusion, trying to get his mind around the idea that Giles had kissed him. 

"Xander?"

Oh, god, he'd still been dreaming. Xander blinked, and everything changed: he was in a darkened bedroom--his bedroom. His bed. His alarm clock telling him that it was a little past one a.m., and the arm around his waist telling him that Rupert had finally abandoned his paperwork and gone to bed. 

Xander rolled over, grinning sleepily. "About time you got here," he said, wondering when his subconscious was going to catch on to the fact that for once, reality was better than the stuff it could give him.


	26. Cardboard Heart (set during S4)

He guessed they'd pretty much broken up. 

After Anya had come back to Sunnydale, Giles had given him this big long speech about how he was too old for Xander--because Anya wasn't, by centuries?--and how Xander would probably be better off with her, anyway. 

Xander didn't feel better off, but maybe he ought to. It'd only been a few weeks before Giles made it clear that he was way over it. If he hadn't been, would he have had that Olivia woman staying with him? 

So maybe Xander was better off after all, even if he couldn't make himself stop hanging around Giles, and even if he still wanted to go over to Giles' place and tell him that for the smartest guy Xander knew, he was being a moron. 

He didn't do that. It would hurt Anya, and he did care about her. Besides, Giles probably wouldn't care that anyway. He didn't even know what he'd say--"you broke my heart" made him sound like an idiot. 

But in a fit of pathetic-ness, when he picked out a valentine for Anya, he got one for Giles, too. He didn't sign that one, but Giles was smart. He'd work it out. 

And if he didn't say anything about it, Xander could tell himself that Giles had guessed wrong about who sent the card.


	27. In Vino (and Demon Blood?) Veritas (set during S4)

"You're sure he's okay?" Buffy asked, looking doubtfully over at Xander. 

"He'll be fine. The bite's not at all deep," Giles said. "He doesn't even need stitches."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know." He looked over at Xander, who appeared to be completely fascinated by studying his own hand. "There's a chemical in the demon's saliva that acts as an intoxicant. It makes it easier for them to swallow their prey if the prey is--"

"Too stoned to notice?"

"More or less. It'll wear off in twelve hours or so, and Xander will be fine. And until then, I'll keep an eye on him."

"Sure you don't need any help?"

He shook his head. "I have... er... a bit of experience with people in his condition." It had been a while, but he thought he was more than capable of looking after Xander. 

Buffy nodded. "I should get back to the dorm, anyway. I have a test tomorrow, and drunk-Xander? Probably not the best study buddy."

When she'd gone, Giles went over to the couch, sitting down next to Xander. "I think you ought to stay here for the night," he suggested. 

Xander looked up at him, grinning. "You're gonna take advantage of me when I'm high?"

"Certainly not. You just shouldn't be on your own right now."

"Please?" Xander sighed heavily. "'Cause I think I'm probably going to chicken out of asking you once I'm back to normal."

"Lie down and go to sleep, Xander," he said, just as though the thought didn't tempt him at all. 

He rather thought Xander would be grateful if he didn't mention this in the morning.


	28. Low (set during S6)

Cheating on his girlfriend, that had been low. He'd felt pretty much like scum, and he'd deserved to. 

And agreeing to date Anya because he figured they'd all die during the Ascension and he wouldn't have to do it--not one of his finer moments. Neither was proposing to her because he thought the world would end, and it would make her happy without meaning anything. And sure, she'd told him she wouldn't accept until afterward, but when they hadn't died, he'd felt like he had to ask again, even if he didn't want to marry Anya. He loved her, he just didn't... he was just a jerk, he figured. 

But lying in bed next to his fiancée--next to the girl who'd be his wife in just a couple of weeks--and thinking about someone else? Someone who was a million miles away in England. Someone who, even if Xander turned up on his doorstep, would probably just make him a cup of tea, and tell him it was just pre-wedding jitters, and send him home. Someone who definitely wouldn't encourage Xander to do any of what Xander was lying here thinking about. 

That was so far beyond "low" that Xander didn't think there was a word for it yet, so the thing for him to do now was to just forget Giles completely.


	29. Supposed to (set during S3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set during S3. Xander is 18, but still a high school student, so if that's not your thing, skip this one.

He was supposed to be reminding Xander that he should be in math class right now. 

He was supposed to remember that this was a school, and Xander was a student, and this was wrong. 

He was supposed to stop this. 

He was supposed to do anything other than follow Xander back into the stacks, anything other than kissing Xander until they were both dazed and breathless; until Xander's hips were bucking forward and Xander's erection was pressed into his thigh; until Xander moaned into his mouth, begging him for more, please, he'd been waiting for so long already.... Until he was cursing the promise he made himself that this would go no further until after Xander graduated in a few months. He'd keep his promise, but that didn't mean he'd enjoy it. 

He was supposed to have kept himself out of this sort of situation in the first place. 

He'd never been terribly good at doing what he was supposed to, though--just ask the Council--and Giles suspected that he wouldn't start now.


	30. open_on_sunday: "London"

The first year, Xander stayed in Africa; he sent presents and made phone calls and nursed his misery in private.

The next, he visited Willow in Rio and Buffy in Italy and pretended not to hear Giles' disappointment when Xander said he didn't have time to visit.

The third, though, Xander caught a flight to London, only calling Giles once he was already at Heathrow. Giles was surprised to see him; oddly less surprised that Xander kissed him as soon as the door was closed.

He didn't see much of London that week, but it didn't matter. He'd be back.


	31. open_on_sunday: "Sunday"

Xander had started reporting in on Sundays because he said Giles' secretary unnerved him. He'd always apologized for calling Giles at home, until Giles finally confessed that without Xander's call, his Sundays were rather empty; he'd have just gone into the office to kill time.

Giles wouldn't say that confession had opened the floodgates, but slowly, very slowly, it had led to others, from both of them. And now, although that particular secretary had quit months ago, Xander still called on Sundays, so that no one would overhear what they said to one another once the official report was over.


	32. Not Enough Candles in the World (some time S4 or later)

Xander hadn't been lying when he said he could cook. Because, well, he could cook, if you wanted mac'n'cheese or scrambled eggs. Plus, he'd had to take home ec in junior high, and he'd gotten a B+ in French toast. 

The thing was, he had a sneaking suspicion that none of those actually qualified as a romantic meal, which was what he'd promised Giles that morning. 

Maybe, he decided, eyeing the ingredients spread out on the counter, if he lit a whole bunch of candles, Giles wouldn't notice that he was eating French toast with a side of Kraft dinner.


	33. post-Chosen kink

This wasn't about punishment. 

Xander had sort of thought it would be, had thought that was what he _wanted_ it to be, back when he'd felt like he had to atone for the sin of being alive when Anya wasn't, when so _many_ people weren't. He'd been surprised to find that it wasn't, and that even after he'd stopped feeling so damned guilty, he hadn't wanted to give it up. But as it turned out, it had been completely different than what he'd expected. 

_Better_ than what he'd expected, and not only because this resembled some of his guiltiest high school wet dreams, the sort that had left him confused and jumpy for a day or two afterward: the sternness in Giles' voice as he ordered Xander to his knees; the imperious tap of Giles' finger against Xander's lips; the weight of Giles' cock on his tongue and the slide of it past his lips. 

In the fantasy, of course, he hadn't had to struggle against his urge to touch himself, to obey Giles' orders to keep his hands at his side--but then, he hadn't known to imagine the moment when Giles ordered him onto the bed on his hands and knees, the even more difficult struggle to hold still and silent for Giles. He hadn't realized how comforting it would be to know that in here, all he had to do was what Giles told him, and everything would be all right. 

And then there were the times--nearly every time, if he was honest, and it _might_ have been intentional--that he didn't quite manage to do what he was told, and that was simple, too. Giles never sounded angry, just matter-of-fact and a little disappointed, and then there was the sharp smack of Giles' hand on his ass--it was a belt once, and Xander had tried to hide how much he hated it; he must have failed, though, because it never appeared again--and the hoarse sound of his own voice, sounding a long way away as he counted the blows. 

Then, always just when he thought he wouldn't be able to stand it another second, Giles would stop and pull Xander into his arms, rubbing his back and murmuring words of approval, while Xander trembled and clung to him, feeling wrung out, if there was such a thing as "wrung out in a good way."

And maybe that was it, Xander thought: Giles always stopped before it got to be too much for him--either because Xander managed to choke out the safeword (still feeling stupid for needing it, even if Giles told him there was no need to) or because, more and more often lately, Giles just knew. 

It was weird to think of _this_ being the safest he could remember feeling since the morning before he found out vampires were real, but maybe it made sense, after all. Giles was never going to make him cope with more than he could handle.


	34. set in S3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in the latter half of S3; Xander's 18, but still in high school. Proceed accordingly.

This was deliberate. It might even be a conspiracy. 

He might be overreacting, but it did seem suspicious that _everyone_ had suddenly found jelly doughnuts irresistible. 

"Was that the last one?" he asked, knowing what Xander's answer would be. 

"Yeah." Xander's grin wasn't at all apologetic. 

"Really, is it too much to ask that--"

Xander cut him off, still grinning. "I'll share," he offered, picking up the doughnut again--to break off the half he'd taken a bite from, Giles assumed at first, but instead, he scooped up some of the filling on his index finger and held it up to Giles' lips. 

Giles was about to shake his head and walk away--the boy obviously had _no_ idea that there was more temptation there than the raspberry-flavored goo on Xander's finger--when he noticed the way Xander was watching him. He was still grinning, but he was practically vibrating with nervousness... and perhaps Xander was more aware than he'd thought.

The silence must have gone on too long, because Xander's face fell. "Never mind; dumb idea," he said, licking the jelly off his finger, his posture far too dejected for him to have meant it as seductive, no matter how much Giles' attention was caught by the gesture. "The _real_ last doughnut's in your office," he said. "I just thought--you know, _I_ don't even know what I thought." 

He jumped down from the table, grabbing his bookbag. "Anyway, I have to go."

Giles reminded himself sternly that "he started it" was not sufficient justification for seducing a schoolboy, and then ignored his own good advice. "I'll share it with you," he said. 

He chose not to think about what it said about him that the startled, hopeful grin Xander gave him was all the justification he needed.


	35. post-Chosen again

It's the days that are difficult, which surprises Giles a little. 

He'd think it would be the nights. Until he'd made arrangements with the Council's bankers, they were all sharing rooms to save costs, and lately, he'd started to think that even Andrew would have been a better choice than Xander. At least now, when he has to remind himself that Xander doesn't want his understanding, doesn't want his sympathy, and absolutely doesn't want anything else Giles might be offering. 

He'd made that clear enough, though Giles still finds himself half-hoping that Xander's, "Please don't--I can't...." was more of a "Not now," than an outright "No." Either way, he keeps his distance and he keeps silent, because if he can't help Xander any other way, he can at least leave him alone. 

But at least in the evenings, there in the awkwardness and the silences and the way they can't look one another in the eye any longer, the things he said and can't, wouldn't want to, take back are _acknowledged_. 

During the day, when the others are around, they both do their best to pretend that nothing ever happened, and that was harder to stand than the awkwardness.


	36. sometime not long after "The Wish"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during S3; Xander's 18 but still in school, so proceed accordingly.

Xander was using the library as somewhere to hide, Giles knew; he didn't want to face Cordelia, or Oz--or really, Giles suspected, himself. If he spent his lunch period in the library, he could pretend he just wasn't hungry. 

He didn't _say_ any of that, of course, and he didn't ask Xander why he didn't just leave campus at lunch if he wanted to avoid people. 

And for the half-hour that Xander was in the library, he didn't let his mind wander, either, particularly not to a place where Xander spent his lunch period in the library for other reasons--and doing other things than flicking idly through a magazine--because all that would do would be to give Xander someone else to avoid.


	37. quite a long time post-Chosen

"Do you remember that Christmas when it snowed?" Xander asked, as he stood at the window, watching the rain that refused to turn into anything fluffy or white. 

He knew the year Xander meant, of course--though in his mind, it was associated less with snow and more with the clutch of fear in his chest as he tried to concentrate on what Angel was saying and not on what Angelus had done just a few months before. 

Long past, now, and Xander was waiting for an answer, so Giles put it out of his mind. "What about it?" he asked, slipping an arm around Xander's waist. He noticed for the first time that there were a few threads of silver in the dark hair, filing that away for the next time Xander teased him about his own advanced age. 

"I almost went over to your place and told you what I _really_ wanted for Christmas," Xander said, grinning at him. "But I figured you'd have to say 'no,' no matter what, and so...."

And so it had taken them ten years to get--not here; that had taken even more time--but to somewhere that had finally led to here. "I might not have," he admitted; he'd like to think that he'd have done the right thing, but it was difficult to think, from this perspective, that it would have been wrong. 

"So you're saying we wasted all that time?" Xander asked; Giles thought he heard a note of wistfulness in his tone.

"It all worked out in the end," he pointed out, and Xander smiled. 

"You call this working out?" he said, and now Giles heard nothing but laughter in his voice. "You convinced me to stay here and freeze for Christmas, and now it's not even snowing."


	38. Above and Beyond (high-school era, no sex [one-sided])

Tonight, Xander decided, had all the necessary ingredients for grade-A, maximum suckage. 

Vampires cornering them in the library? Check. 

Buffy's dad showing up for one of his not-so-frequent parental visits, so there was no Slayer on patrol? Check. 

Giles getting hit on the head--which was becoming a bad habit of his--so Xander had to drag him to safety, which in this case translated into "the book cage"? Check and double-check. 

Xander having to sit here until sunrise, three vampires just a few feet away, and being expected to talk to Giles all night so that he didn't fall asleep (thank you, maybe-concussion) , _without_ saying anything that might lead to humiliation, rejection, and potentially restraining orders? 

_That_ , he thought, was a little excessive.


	39. Talking About the Weather (post-Chosen)

When he'd called Willow after he got back to work, she told him his descriptions of England sounded a lot like she'd tuned into the Weather Channel. 

_"How was England?" "Rainy._

_"Did you have a good time?" "Yeah."_

_"What did you see?" "Fog, mostly."_

When she put it like that, Xander had to admit he was making things sound pretty boring. But honestly, all he'd seen of London was the taxi ride from the airport, and that meant that mostly, he'd seen traffic and weather. 

And then he got to the flat, and pretty much, all he saw for the rest of the week, until he'd taken another taxi back to the airport, was Giles--was _Rupert_ , he corrected himself, even though that still sounded weird and wrong to him. 

Pretty much, all he'd been seeing for a long time was Rupert, and the past week had just made that literal. 

Xander took a deep breath. "Will? There's something I probably ought to tell you...."


	40. ...and then you die (S4)

There was nothing about his entire life that he didn't hate, Xander decided, the second morning that he'd come over to help Giles unpack the books they'd saved from the library--and what had Giles been doing all summer, saving up the boring stuff until he could get Xander to help him? 

It was true, too. His summer adventure had turned to drudgery and then something it was going to take electroshock to repress, he hadn't found a real job yet, and he was living in his parents' basement--a place he'd spent the first eighteen years of his life trying to avoid--and paying rent for the not-a-privilege-at-all of sharing a room with the washing machine and the spiders. 

Add to that the horrible spell that the Fabulous Ladies' Night Club had obviously cast on him, or that someone else had cast on Giles--whatever it was that had happen over the summer to make Giles somehow turn kind of (not that Xander would admit it under torture) hot. 

He definitely felt justified in his deep and undying hatred for every part of his stupid excuse for a life. 

"I really do appreciate this, Xander," Giles said. 

"Yeah, well, I couldn't turn down the money," Xander muttered, even though he'd probably have done it anyway, if Giles had asked. 

He turned to take another book from Giles, and caught a glimpse of hurt in Giles' eyes before Giles turned away to look through one of the boxes. Real, actual hurt, not just annoyance because Xander was being obnoxious, and wasn't that just great that Giles started thinking of him as an actual person whose opinion mattered, just like he'd been wanting, right before Xander said something to screw it all up. 

Oh, yeah, he hated his life, all right.


	41. Fidelity (includes mention of Xander/Anya)

He'd almost stopped feeling like he was cheating on Anya. 

He wasn't; Xander knew that. It had been three years since he'd left Anya at the altar and nearly two since she died, and so there was no possible way that this, this _thing_ with Giles--it was too new and too uncertain to use words like _relationship_ \--was cheating. 

Who said Anya would care what he did, anyway? There'd been times when he'd thought... well, Anya had seemed happy enough when she'd thought she was engaged to Giles, that was all he was saying. Maybe she'd be jealous of _him_ for getting Giles, and not angry he'd moved on. 

And maybe she wouldn't care either way, as long as wherever she was now, it was somewhere she could watch. 

_That's my girl_ , Xander thought, and tried to hide his laughter so that Giles wouldn't ask what was so funny.


	42. Guilt

"You don't ever feel guilty about this?" Xander asked, rolling onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. 

"Given the nights I don't get home until midnight, I hardly think the occasional long lunch is a mortal sin," Giles pointed out. 

"No, I mean-- _this_. All of this. Being happy." He shrugged. "I mean, people we knew are dead, and...."

And for "people," Giles thought, read "Anya," although he was willing to leave that specific subject alone for as long as Xander wanted. "We've all lost people we care for," he admitted, "but I can't imagine they'd be pleased we used that as an excuse to stop living." He'd decided that for himself years ago, after Jenny--he suspect that if he _hadn't_ moved on eventually, "fuddy-duddy" would have been the kindest thing she'd have called him. 

Xander didn't answer, but he shifted a little closer, and Giles put his arm around him. He really ought to be getting back to the office--leaving Andrew in charge was always a risky thing--but he decided that some things--some people--took precedence. 

If there were an apocalypse, he was sure someone would ring him, and anything else could wait.


	43. Habit

Recon missions, backup patrol--they called it a lot of things, but neither he nor Giles ever admitted what it really was: two guys without enough to do with their time. _Admitting_ you were pathetic was one step down from just _being_ pathetic, and Xander wasn't ready to embrace his inner loser that completely. 

So he hung out at Giles' place, doing research--which basically meant sitting in Giles' living room and eating his food and ignoring cups of tea (it wasn't bad if you put a ton of milk and sugar in it, but Giles had made a face like Xander had just kicked him in the shins, and Xander hadn't had the heart to do it again) and occasionally looking through a book. 

And then they went out patrolling, which tended to involve a whole lot of walking around in the dark and finding absolutely nothing. And bickering, and occasionally being told to shut up, but it wasn't like Giles _meant_ that. Much. 

One night, it had been almost dawn when they'd gotten back to Giles' place. Xander had honestly been joking about being there just in time for breakfast, but food cooked in a real kitchen bet the best of hot-plate cuisine, and he was out of cereal. So when Giles offered to cook eggs, Xander would have had to be a lot dumber than he actually was to say no. 

And then it just became a habit: they went out on patrol, and then there was breakfast. That was fine by Xander, because he usually didn't feel like going home, and he liked--in the sense that "liked" meant "found it seriously weird and verging on stuff that needed to be repressed beyond all memory"--to think that maybe Giles didn't want him to leave, either.


	44. 139 Days (S3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Xander is over 18. There is also no sex (that's specifically the point of this ficlet, in fact). But just so you know.

Four months, two weeks, and five days until graduation. 

Xander knew he wasn't the only person at Sunnydale High to know that; he'd seen other seniors, with calendars in their lockers, days X'ed off to mark the time until they could escape.

No one else cared for the same reason _he_ did, though. No one else had had one moment of insanity--one moment of _oh god I should not be liking this so much_ , with Giles' mouth on his (and he _hadn't_ imagined that Giles was kissing him back, no matter what he worried about some of the time), before Giles had pulled away. 

They couldn't do this, Giles said, even when Xander argued that he was eighteen and could do what he wanted. 

Xander was a student, Giles said, and that made it wrong anyway. Nothing Xander said had changed his mind, but when Xander left the library, he'd kissed Giles again, too quickly for Giles to push him away, and he hadn't imagined Giles kissing back _then_ , either. 

Four months, two weeks, and five days until graduation. 

Four months, two weeks, and six days until he went over to Giles' place and asked for his graduation present.


	45. Gratitude (Wishverse)

He didn't remember being born as a human, but then again, why should he? His entire _existence_ hadn't mattered until he'd woken up with Willow standing over him. This was what counted: waking up strong and powerful, his senses sharper than they'd ever been. How could he have been afraid of this? 

He had Will to thank for turning him, but he wouldn't have even been in that cemetery in the first place if it hadn't been for Giles. If he'd never met Giles, when the Master took over Sunnydale, he'd have obeyed the curfew and hidden in his house, trying to stay safe. He'd have missed this. 

He'd have to go to the high school tonight and find a way to express his... gratitude.


	46. Between the Lines

They were postcards, so there wasn't room to write much, but the outlines, at least, of what Xander was doing were in his field reports; Giles was good at reading between the lines by now, and he'd get the details when Xander was next in England.

They were postcards, and they came to the Council (Giles' post had been mis-delivered so often that he'd given up on having anything come to his flat), so there wasn't much Xander _could_ say in them; _someone_ was bound to read them before they reached Giles' desk. Giles was good at reading between the lines there, too, and could tell from just a few words whether things were really fine, or whether he ought to find the phone number where Xander could be reached this month. 

They were postcards, and the Council got dozens each month from Slayers scattered all around the world. Andrew tacked most of them to a bulletin board out in the reception area, but Giles never let him have any of Xander's, no matter how often he asked. 

There weren't many words on them, but there was so much said between the lines, if you knew how to see it.

* * *


	47. Now We Are Sixty (post-Chosen)

"So how old are you again?" Xander asked, grinning at him from across the breakfast table. "A hundred and fifty?" 

Giles scowled at him over the top of the newspaper. "You know perfectly well how old I am." 

"And let me just say that you're handling turning sixty really well. You only threatened Andrew with unemployment and _not_ being used as a Slayer punching bag if he arranged another 'surprise' birthday party. _Much_ better than when you turned fifty-five." Still grinning, Xander reached for another piece of toast. "Of course, he went ahead and planned the party anyway, but--" 

Giles muttered something dark and unpleasant sounding under his breath, and Xander raised his voice a little to make sure he'd be heard. " _But_ since I called the girls and told them to come for the weekend, and you're not going to work today anyway, you're going to miss it."

For the first time since he'd come downstairs that morning, Giles sounded less grouchy and more confused. "What do you mean, I'm not going to work today?"

"I called in for you. You have to stay home and unwrap your present, and yes, if you're really lucky, that's going to take a while." When Giles didn't answer right away, he added, "And if you didn't catch that was me trying to tell you that I lied to your secretary so that you could stay home and have sex with me all day, then you really _are_ a hundred and fifty." 

Giles actually brightened a little at that, and Xander laughed. "You don't have to say anything," he said. "Hearing you scream my name will be thanks enough." 

He decided to skip the speech on how it would be a difficult and noble sacrifice, but for Giles' birthday, it would be worth it. That kind of thing worked best with a straight face, and he hadn't managed to get through it without laughing, no matter how he tried. 

Besides, Giles had put down the newspaper, and from the way he was looking at Xander, Xander got the feeling breakfast was over.


	48. Five TV shows Xander doesn't admit to watching when talking to Giles. (Set relatively early on.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a meme response, but I liked some of my answers, so I posted them as ficlets. 
> 
> Long ago, when BtVS was airing, the History Channel actually showed history. (I'm reposting these in 2018, and that is, admittedly, a very strange thought.)

1\. _The X-Files._ Because, really, he knows they got vampires totally wrong. And also that there aren't aliens (oh God please, let there not be aliens on top of everything else). But ~~Mulder~~ Scully's hot. 

2\. _Baywatch._ Just because of the look Giles would give him. The girls would give him the same look, but he doesn't _expect_ them to get it. Giles, on the other hand, _ought_ to get it, but he won't. Xander thinks maybe he could sit Giles down and prove his point about what makes the show worth watching. But when he thinks about Giles lusting after bikini-clad women, his stomach hurts and his face gets hot and he punches his pillow really hard. So. Maybe not. 

3\. _Dawson's Creek._ Willow is sworn to secrecy about his belief that Dawson and Joey are made for each other. 

4\. _Monty Python's Flying Circus._ He doesn't _get_ a lot of the jokes, but what he does get is funny. But it weakens his position concerning the mockery of All Things Excessively British, so maybe not. Plus, with his luck, it was a show only stupid people liked in England, and Giles has enough reasons to think he's stupid. 

5\. Anything on the History Channel. Which is kind of cool, a lot of the time--better than history class at school, at least. But Giles would just look surprised that Xander watches anything not-stupid, and it's not like Xander walks around _carrying_ a pillow he can punch.


	49. Five things Giles will never tell Xander (post-Chosen)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a meme answer too. I liked them, and they're certainly not less worthy than some of the drabbles I've written.

1\. He never actually thought Xander was an idiot. There's nothing wrong with telling him that, of course, except that Giles isn't certain he could resist the urge to add, "but you certainly acted like one, at times," and that's counterproductive. 

2\. He _might_ have told Xander, if Xander had asked, that he was, in fact, trying to talk Xander out of marrying Anya, at least that soon. Except that it seems to have worked, and he feels irrationally guilty about it now. (Irrational, because he knows it isn't his fault. Guilty, because he's only sorry that Anya was hurt so badly by it.) 

3\. He wasn't actually _spying_ on Andrew, but it wasn't as though any of them trusted him at the time, so when Andrew spent a great deal of time working on something he didn't want anyone to see, Giles took the first opportunity he had to glance at it. It wasn't in English, but it also wasn't in any language, human or demonic, that Giles recognized, and it didn't seem to be a spell. 

The one word (repeated several times) he did recognize was "Xander." 

4\. All the other Council employees (well, all except Buffy, who doesn't _report_ so much as she occasionally calls him) in the field report to Andrew. In writing, not via telephone. 

5\. There's a chair in his office that has been the recipient of the occasional declaration of... well, there's no need to get into that. Suffice it to say that the chair doesn't answer back, which makes it a good deal more comfortable to have these conversations with than Xander would be.


	50. Kinky S3 porn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set during late S3. Xander is canonically 18, but is still in school. Walk away if that's not your thing. 
> 
> Four related ficlets. All written for soft_princess, who was for many years the cause of about 75% of the Giles/Xander written in the fandom, and who is also Mrs. Mireille. :)

"Hold still," he tells Xander again, and pushes Xander's hand away as it slides further down, toward his cock which Giles is certain he's been told not to touch. 

Xander's hands drop to his sides, twisting in the bedspread as he tries to urge Giles' fingers deeper inside him. Begging him to stop teasing and just _fuck_ him, and Giles groans at the words. 

That's in his plans, but not yet. Not when he has Xander like this, moaning and writhing and utterly gorgeous. 

"Be patient," he whispers, brushing a kiss over Xander's lips, and is rewarded with another whimper.

****

Giles is _evil_.

And Xander can't even warn anybody about it, because one, this is part of the stuff he's not allowed to tell anyone about, and two, Xander's going to _die_ , right here and now, if Giles doesn't take pity on him soon. 

He'd like to see Giles try to explain _that_ to the police, because Xander's lying here naked with a cock so hard it hurts, and he's seriously going to die if Giles doesn't take the cock-ring off soon and let him come. Especially if Giles keeps doing that thing with his fingers that makes Xander squirm and beg and really, really wish Giles would hurry up and fuck him. _After_ he undoes the cock-ring, which he doesn't seem to be in any hurry to do, since when Xander begs, he just smiles and says, "Be patient."

Oh, yeah. Evil. 

Xander kind of likes him like that.

****

Xander needs to remember to be careful what he asks for, because Giles having mercy and finally fucking him isn't actually any less evil than anything else Giles has done tonight.

Xander came just as soon as the cock-ring was off, but he's hard again, and he thinks he might be going to scream in frustration with every slow thrust of Giles' cock into him. 

"This is torture, right?" He's babbling; he'd be begging if it had done any good so far. "I have no idea what I did but you're torturing me and you're going to kill me with sexual frustration? Is that it?" 

Giles chuckles, and Xander is going to make him pay for that, one of these days. "No," he murmurs, mouth right against Xander's skin, "this isn't torture, love. This is just fucking you until you scream."

Evil? Bad. "Evil and apparently psychic," though? Good combination.

****

Xander holds his head differently with the collar around his throat. Straighter, less slouching, and he tells himself that it's harder to breathe if he doesn’t. It's kind of true, but also, Giles told him he likes to be able to look at him--called him a handsome boy, even, which Xander knows is only true in the sense that Giles is kind of biased. 

He ignores it, most of the time, slouching and looking at the floor anyway. But with the collar on, he holds his head straight, looks up at Giles, because Giles wants him to. 

He does a lot of things with the collar on, because Giles wants him to. Some of them, he wants, too. Like now, when he's on his knees with spit slicking his chin and Giles' cock sliding past his lips, so deep he has to make himself relax to keep from choking. He definitely wants this--he's so hard his cock is nearly flat against his belly--but it doesn't matter what he wants. He doesn't have to worry about that, just has to do what Giles asks of him. 

Sometimes he wishes he could keep the collar on all the time.


	51. post-Chosen, rated M

Xander's idea of a romantic getaway apparently involved a hotel catering to the more tasteless sort of honeymoon couples; when Giles followed the directions he'd found on the kitchen table and unlocked the door to the room Xander had booked, he was greeted by "mood lighting," faux-fur upholstery, and a bed covered in red satin. 

Only the very foot of the bed was visible from the doorway; when Giles finally forced himself to go inside the room--a smile plastered on his face, because this _was_ something Xander had gone to great trouble to arrange--he found Xander was already there, sitting on the bed dressed only in the tacky satin-and-mesh briefs Willow had bought him as a joke last Christmas. 

"I don't know what to say," Giles began, but didn't get any further before Xander burst out laughing. 

"God. You should see your face," Xander said, getting up and coming over to wrap his arms around Giles. "I knew you'd hate this."

"And yet you still--"

Still laughing, Xander murmured, "There's a cottage in Scotland that's ours for the next week. _This_ was just to see what you'd say."

Giles shook his head. "You're terrible." 

Xander's only response was a long, slow kiss. "We _do_ have the room for the night," he suggested. "And do you really want to pass up the chance to have sex in a sleazy hotel room with a guy half your age?"

"You are _not_ half my age," Giles protested. "Not since last year." 

Xander smiled. "But you're okay with the sex-in-a-sleazy-hotel-room part?"

Giles' response was to take Xander's hand, pressing it against the front of his trousers, where his cock had definitely taken note of Xander's suggestion. 

"Oh, _good_ ," Xander said, tugging gently on his necktie to lead him toward the bed.


	52. Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Sex Scene (post-Chosen)

His high-school daydreams had been better. In his imagination, when he kissed Giles, it hadn't ended with him crawling on the floor trying to figure out how the hell Giles' glasses could have gone _that_ far when he knocked them off. 

Those guilty fantasies he'd had when he was with Anya had been better. He probably wouldn't have felt so awful if he'd imagined that Giles was going to forget to close the cap on the lube, so that when Xander accidentally kind of rolled onto it, the result was a mess on the sheets, and not the fun kind. 

Hell, even jerking off in the cab of his truck--somewhere in the middle of nowhere and trying desperately to remember something, anything, Giles had said to him that wasn't about work--had been better. At least then when he came at the first touch, he was the only one to be disappointed, and he didn't have to look himself in the eye afterward and make some kind of excuse for his total lack of self-control. 

On the other hand, while he had definitely never fantasized about Giles accidentally elbowing him in the ribs, Giles did apologize. And then, shaking his head, said, "Well, at least I know you can't possibly just be here for the mind-blowing sex."

Xander was about to apologize, but then realized that Giles was smiling, and grinned back. "I prefer to think of it as making sure this was unforgettable."

And the one thing none of his fantasies had had was him and Giles, lying there with their arms around each other, laughing so much they could hardly breathe, and Xander decided that there might be something to be said for incredibly disaster-prone sex, after all. 

They had plenty of time to get it right.


	53. more S3 smut, not kinky this time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another existing in the time period where Xander is still in high school, but is 18.

Xander hadn't been lying, exactly, when he'd implied that he'd done this before. He'd just taken a broad interpretation of "this" that meant "oral sex in general" and not "sucking another guy's cock," and he'd done _that_. That had been one of the things on Cordelia's list of things Xander was allowed to do, and he was pretty sure he learned to be decent at it, because Cordy had stopped complaining. 

But he hadn't done _this_ , and he was desperately hoping it didn't show. If it did, Giles might change his mind about doing it, and Xander really, really wanted to. Wanted it even more once he'd sunk down to his knees in front of Giles, his hands shaking just a little as he unbuckled Giles' belt and eased his zipper down. 

Giles' hands on his shoulders were comforting, a familiar touch easing his nervousness at the definitely _un_ familiar situation while he tugged Giles' pants and underwear down and suddenly found himself just a couple of inches away from Giles' cock. He'd touched Giles before--frantic, guilty groping in dark corners of the library--but he'd never had the chance to _look_ before now. 

And he could do more than look now, if he wanted to. And he did want to; oh, god, he definitely wanted to, and so he took a deep breath before leaning in, nuzzling at Giles' thigh and then licking hesitantly up the length of Giles' cock. 

Giles groaned, and his hands tightened on Xander's shoulders, and so Xander did it again, this time licking all the way to the tip before cautiously taking the head in his mouth and starting to suck. 

And yeah, it probably did show that he didn't know what he was doing, but if Giles didn't mind, then neither did Xander.


	54. The Cure for Workaholism

Most of the time, when Xander's in England, there's a crisis going on, and everybody's strictly business. He and Giles may sleep together--sitting upright on the couch in Giles' office half the time, and the other half they don't sleep at all--but there's no time for anything else, and both of them are too preoccupied to care. 

But sometimes he's there for something non-apocalyptic. That's when he goes and finds Giles talking to someone in the hallway, or getting himself a cup of tea. 

Xander's prepared; he has a folder in his hand that looks important even though it mostly has yesterday's newspaper in it, and he presses it into Giles' hand. "For your eyes only," he says, and then leans in to whisper, "Read it while you're alone." 

Then Xander goes on about his business--talking to some of the new Watchers who're going out on their first field assignments, or clearing up one of the questions the bookkeeper has about his expense reports. The whole time, he's grinning to himself at the thought of Giles going back to his office and opening the folder, because the part that _isn't_ the sports section is a note explaining exactly what Xander's planning to do to him when he gets home from the office, starting with pushing him against the door and getting his cock in Xander's mouth before he's had a chance to take his coat off. 

It's one way to get him to leave work on time.


	55. more mildly kinky S3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Xander is canonically 18 during the part of S3 where this fic is set.

He'd feel guilty if he'd ever asked for this, if he hadn't been surprised that Xander knelt in front of him, hands behind his back and eyes lowered. It would have been too much; he was already too acutely conscious of the fine line they were walking, too concerned with making certain Xander knew that he didn't _have_ to do this.

But the idea had come from Xander--and where Xander had got it, Giles could only guess--and so Giles wasn't pushing him; and the last lingering traces of guilt evaporated at the sound of Xander calling him "sir."

****

Xander's not as dumb as some people think; he figured out pretty fast that the reason Giles always waits for Xander to start this isn't that Giles doesn't really want to do it. 

It's that he wants to, _a lot_. Wants to be giving Xander that stern look--and somehow, it's completely different than the look he gives Xander in the library when he screws up--and using that tone of voice that has Xander's cock making him do whatever Giles wants before his brain even registers that Giles has spoken. 

But Giles, Xander's already had a chance to figure out, is really good at not letting himself do things he wants, especially where Xander's concerned. 

Good thing Xander's even better at changing his mind.


	56. Letter from Africa

_Dear Rupert (and that is never going to stop looking weird), _

_This long-distance thing is completely not working any more. Have you noticed how much it sucks? And I'm not even talking about the obvious parts where ten minutes a day if we're lucky is not enough time to talk to you. (It might be closer to enough if you'd quit talking about work, but I know you won't.) _

_I'm talking about the part where I went to my landlady's place to get the mail that piled up while I was gone, and she'd just made herself some tea. And it must be the kind you drink, because it smelled just like it, and I keep thinking about that last Sunday morning I was there. Remember? In the kitchen, when you backed me up against the table? I knocked over your cup, and the back of my shirt got soaked with tea, and I really couldn't care because seriously, you could probably pour boiling oil down the back of my shirt and I'm not going to notice when your hand's doing that. _

_And when I say I keep thinking about it, I mean the kind of thinking that isn't so much thinking as it is me half-suffocating myself with my pillow because the walls are thin and I really don't want my landlady hearing me scream your name when I come. (God, I hope you're not reading this at work. Except that I kind of hope you are.) _

_And if the smell of your tea is enough to do that, then I'm thinking maybe I ought to try to get transferred somewhere I can at least visit more often._

_Think my boss will be open to the idea? Of course, I won't mention this part to him. I'm going with "Four years is long enough to be out in the field; it's someone else's turn," which is way more professional, I think, than "I really want to have a lot more sex than I'm getting now." Or even "I'm involved with this guy and I miss him."_

_Love you._

_-X._


	57. Reading Between the Lines (S3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point in S3, Xander is canonically 18.

It's February and it's raining, so they're both soaked and kind of cold and completely muddy from where they'd been knocked down--repeatedly, but neither of them is mentioning that, or how dead they would have been if Buffy hadn't come by.

Neither of them is mentioning anything at all, because what could they say? Xander knows he flunks "suave," but he's pretty sure any discussion of how they'd managed to turn "hiding from a demon" into something that had involved hands and groping and Giles' thigh pressed against Xander's dick in just the right way to make Xander's brain short out is a discussion Giles isn't going to want to have, ever. 

Xander doesn't want to talk about it, either, but he wants to do it again. Oh, God, does he ever want to do it again. 

So when they're back at the library to play "Name that Demon," and Giles has dried off enough that he won't drip on the books, Xander follows him into the stacks.

And when Giles says, "We'll get mud on the books," when Xander tries to back him up against the shelves, Xander listens carefully for the "No," and only hears, "Not here."


	58. Overrated (S3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to write this out and c&p it: In late S3, Xander is canonically 18. This is all kinds of sketchy, but is not underage. :)

Willow's studying for a math test, and Buffy's out on patrol, so it's as safe as it's ever going to get, in Xander's mind, and not nearly safe enough if you ask Giles. But he doesn't ask Giles, because he's been half-hard all evening, and right now he doesn't want to be reasonable or sensible or cautious. He just wants Giles. 

And so when Giles goes up into the stacks to look for a book, Xander gives him all of ninety seconds to find it before he gets up to follow, and finds that Giles has been waiting for him, is leaning back against the wall and smiling, the book in question already pulled out and lying on one of the nearby shelves. 

"I thought you'd be here," Giles says, or at least that's what Xander thinks he's starting to say before Xander silences him with a kiss, licking his way into Giles' mouth while he fumbles with Giles' belt and buttons and zipper. 

"Shh," Xander whispers between heated kisses. "Didn't you say we have to be careful?" He cuts off Giles' answer, but Giles doesn't seem to mind; his arms are around Xander's waist, his hands cupping Xander's ass, and Xander keeps thinking about the last time he managed to sneak over to Giles' place at night, about pushing back against slick fingers and seeing white sparks behind his eyes. About wanting more and being just a little too freaked out to ask for it, not yet. 

He wants this, tonight, and he's not going to freak out about it. And oh, this is familiar, his hand wrapping around Giles' cock; he knows by now how Giles likes this, exactly how hard and fast his hand should move to make Giles gasp. 

Xander kisses him again, stifling the moans--both Giles' and his own; his own cock is hard and aching, and he pauses a second to rub himself through his jeans--as he jerks Giles off. Giles groans again, into Xander's mouth, and Xander swallows it, and oh, God, thinking about swallowing anything is not exactly helping much with his own hard-on. 

A few more strokes of his hand, the swipe of his thumb over the head of Giles' cock, and he feels Giles' body tense before he comes in Xander's hand; Xander's mouth stays on his, urging him to keep quiet, just to prove that Xander's not completely without caution, here. 

And then it's stifling Xander's own moans, because even though Giles' eyes are still unfocused and his breathing hard, Giles' thigh is pressed between Xander's legs, and all Xander has to do is rock forward once, twice, three times before he's coming, head spinning as he slumps against Giles' shoulder. 

Careful, Xander thinks, is totally overrated, and he's pretty sure that if he asked, right now, Giles would agree with him.


	59. Sunday Morning (post-Chosen)

Giles follows the outline of Xander's bottom lip with one finger, leaning in to whisper into Xander's ear. "I love your mouth," he murmurs, as Xander parts his lips, letting the finger slip past them. "Looking down and seeing my cock sliding into it...." 

Xander sucks the finger into his mouth, tongue tracing circles on the tip, hearing Giles' breathing quicken and feeling Giles' erection pressed against his thigh. 

"Feel what you do to me," Giles goes on, arching against Xander for a moment, sending a jolt of arousal through Xander's body. Xander whimpers, and he hears Giles chuckle. "And it looks like I'm doing the same to you," he adds, sliding a hand between them and squeezing Xander's cock. 

Another moan from Xander, but he lies still, waiting to see where Giles is going to go with this. 

"I could fuck you," he says, like he's debating whether they should go to the movies or stay home and watch the Dodgers game. "What do you think? Should I have you on your hands and knees, your cock in my hand while I fuck you, nice and slow?" 

Xander seriously wonders whether there's actually supposed to be an answer for that, or whether Giles is just trying to see if he can make Xander come just from being _talked_ at. 

Maybe he is, because Giles isn't touching him at all now, and Xander's still hard, just from listening to him--and Giles is still talking, describing every stroke of his hand on Xander's cock, every thrust of his cock into Xander's body. 

Oh, yeah. Giles is definitely trying to drive him crazy. 

And it'd work, too, except that Xander licks his lips, looking up at Giles and whispering, "Please. Please, fuck me, I need you, _please_...." The last words are hardly out of his mouth before Giles is rummaging through the nightstand for condoms. 

Xander grins. Giles isn't the only one who's good at talking.


	60. Midlife Crisis (S3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Xander is canonically 18 in the second half of S3.

Closer to fifty than forty, and he's fumbling around in a car like a teenager. 

_With_ a teenager, and he silences his conscience with a reminder that Xander is eighteen now. 

His conscience stops protesting when Xander's hand slides across the front of Giles' trousers. Xander hesitates when his fingers brush against Giles' erection, and Giles is about to say _We can stop_ when the hand starts moving again. 

Then Xander's hand is inside his trousers, curling around his cock, and Giles leans over to kiss him. 

If this is a midlife crisis, he should have had one years ago.


	61. Trust (S3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Xander is canonically 18 at this point in the series.

_Trust me_ , he urges silently, watching Xander's face. 

Xander winces as Giles' fingers breach him, slick with lube and moving carefully; Giles' other hand strokes along Xander's side, slow and soothing: _trust me_. Discomfort gives way to pleasure; Giles sees it in Xander's eyes and smiles. 

Later, he looks down at Xander and sees that the uncertainty is back, Xander's whole body tense with it. He considers stopping; there will be other days. But he leans down first, his lips against Xander's, breathing _Trust me_.

The tension lessens, Xander's body relaxing beneath him, and he realizes then that Xander does.


	62. One of Those Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in a slightly AU version of S4

Xander hadn't meant to spend the night.  
  
They didn't  _do_  that. Staying overnight was a step that neither one of them was ready to take, moving this from just a thing two girlfriend-less guys did when they were bored and horny and Xander had been watching Giles' hands as he turned the pages of his book, to a thing that they were going to have to think about seriously.  
  
Xander was opposed to thinking seriously, about this or anything else, so he didn't. He didn't think about how often he  _did_  watch Giles' hands, and he didn't think about how when Anya had come back looking for him, he'd told her there was someone else--because that had just been the first thing he'd come up with when he'd felt a stab of inexplicable panic in his chest and he'd thought,  _Run away!_ \--and he didn't think about how quickly he'd agreed when Giles had looked at the clock and said, "You may as well just sleep here." After all, he had to be at work early, and it was late, and he would have to clean up and get dressed and drive home. This was a lot easier.  
  
He'd woken up alone, which proved the point that this wasn't a thing they did; sleeping here had been convenient, not a sign that Giles had wanted to wake up with him. But that was exactly what Xander wanted it to be, so he wasn't disappointed. He got up and pulled on yesterday's boxers; he'd get a shower here, and then run home for clean clothes before work. By then it'd be late enough that his dad wouldn't be around to smirk knowingly at Xander about his "big night."  
  
Giles was in the kitchen when Xander stumbled through; he said, "Good morning," as Xander passed, and Xander waved sleepily before going to stand under a hot shower until he was awake.  
  
When he came out, something smelled good, and his stomach growled; maybe he'd stop by McDonald's before work, grab some coffee and a McMuffin or something. But then he went out to tell Giles goodbye, and he realized that the table was set for two, with pancakes and bacon and juice and a bottle of syrup, and Giles' smile almost looked  _nervous_  as he said, "I thought you might need something to eat before work."  
  
When they said goodbye at the door, their kiss slow and sticky and tasting of maple, Xander realized that maybe it was one of those things--those serious, scary, amazing things--after all.


	63. post-Chosen, rated T

Xander's the only one of them who thinks of England as home. Willow and Kennedy are buying a house in Brazil; Buffy loves Rome and has said she doesn't think she wants to leave. Dawn moved back to the States for college, and Xander thinks she's happy there. 

But Xander thinks of Africa as temporary, even though sometimes he's gone for months at a time, and then when he does get back, London looks strange. The receptionist at the Council headquarters is new; the restaurant they went to for his birthday has closed. Even once they get back to the flat, things have changed: there are more books on the shelves and a quilt he doesn't recognize spread over the bed. 

And sometimes he starts to wonder if maybe he's fooling himself, if "home" is defined by how long you spend there, after all. But then it's time for bed, and Rupert is sliding under the sheets next to him; and the press of Rupert's body against his leaves Xander sure of two things: one, it has been way too long since he's had sex; and two, no matter how long he's gone, this is always going to be home.


	64. season 3, rated T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set in late S3, where Xander is 18.

Xander has forgotten his locker combination at least once a month since ninth grade; he forgets his mom's birthday and the vocabulary words he memorized last night for his English test; still has to sing the alphabet song under his breath sometimes to get the books back on the shelves right.   
  
Memory, in other words, is so not his strong point.   
  
But he's sitting in the library--just him and Willow; Buffy's making up an English quiz and Giles is at a faculty meeting--and he can remember every second of last night, every inch of Giles' skin, every sound he makes. He can remember them so clearly, in fact, that when they finish tonight's math homework, he gets out last week's test and has her help him correct his answers, just so he doesn't have to stand up yet.   
  
Apparently, his memory was just waiting for the right opportunity. 


	65. post-Chosen, rated T

  
"So," Xander said, "you remember the library in Sunnydale?"  
  
And the look Rupert gave him, he thought, was probably deserved. Xander didn't care. They were doing  _paperwork_ , which deserved an interruption if anything ever had, and it was warm and stuffy in the new Council library--even if it didn't look much like a library right now, the shelves still three-quarters empty as Rupert and the rest of the book-loving Watchers tried to rebuild the collection. Xander wanted to think about  _anything_  but budgets. Why he ever admitted that he was good at this stuff, he had no idea. Probably temporary insanity.   
  
Well, he was sane now. He slid further down in his chair, hoping Rupert would take it for an innocent slouch. "Do you know," he went on with a better question this time, "how many times you and that library had starring roles in my imagination?" He kicked off his shoe, stretching out to run his foot along Rupert's calf.   
  
The previously steady skritch of Rupert's pen stuttered, then stilled altogether. "It's a miracle," Xander went on, "that just walking into a library isn't enough to get me going." He chuckled, stroking along Rupert's calf again. "Oh, wait. It is."  
  
"I suppose," Rupert said dryly, not quite succeeding in sounding uninterested, "you won't be dissuaded, and I can save a great deal of time by giving in now?"  
  
Xander laughed. "I knew you'd learn one day."  
  
"And I take it you're suggesting a re-enactment of one of your adolescent fantasies?" Rupert was either breathing harder or was trying not to laugh. Or maybe both.   
  
"Yeah. But with one really important difference."   
  
"Which is?"  
  
Xander grinned. "When I got the fireproof doors put in, I made sure they locked. And right now, I'm the only one with a key." He pulled one of the keys out of his pocket and dropped it on the table. "Well, except for you. You can get keys made for anyone who should have one, but today--"  
  
"Brilliant man," Rupert gasped, but Xander was never quite sure if that was for the key, the doors, or where Xander's foot had just moved to. 


	66. post-Chosen, rated T

Xander had morning afters down to a science, even if it wasn't something he was totally proud of.   
  
He could squirm out from under an arm without disturbing that arm's owner; only the very lightest sleepers would even notice that he'd moved.  
  
He could get dressed in almost total darkness without making much noise at all, and he'd learned to check his pockets for his wallet and keys to prevent having to make an awkward phone call later that day. He even remembered to put his shoes on once he'd reached the hall, or the doorstep, or the front porch, just to be sure his footsteps didn't wake anyone up.   
  
It meant he didn't get a lot of second dates, but second dates weren't exactly what he was looking for these days. He'd already proved he was a complete failure at relationships, and there was no reason to think that just because he was dating guys these days, he'd suddenly stopped being incapable of  _not_ screwing things up once they got serious.   
  
Which was why last night had been a bad idea.   
  
A really bad idea.   
  
There was no way a guy he'd met that night, or a couple of days before, would be more than insulted by Xander's hit-and-run technique. One of his friends, though? His ex-boss? Someone he'd known for the past fifteen years?   
  
Bad, bad move. For more reasons than just the corner of Xander's brain that was pointing out that he really didn't  _want_  to leave. There'd been other times he hadn't wanted to leave, but that was when he  _needed_  to go. He'd hurt two people he'd loved before now, and he wasn't doing it again.   
  
But Giles' arm was over his chest, warm and heavy, and when Giles stirred and murmured something in his sleep as Xander tried to pull away, Xander gave up without trying again.   
  
Maybe it was time to try a different kind of morning after. 


	67. Season 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point in S3, Xander is 18.

Xander admitted that he was kind of predictable, in terms of "anywhere but here." "Amy Yip at the waterslide park" was his safe answer, his easy answer, his answer he never had to think about.   
  
If every time he was asked, it was "Amy Yip at the waterslide park," the girls would eventually stop asking, for one thing--but more importantly, the answer became automatic.   
  
And that meant that he was never going to blurt out that if he could be anywhere but here, he'd be in Giles' office, on his knees.   
  
Predictable was  _way_  better than "dead from humiliation." 


	68. Wishverse

"It's not that I don't understand," Xander said. "It's that what you're saying is stupid."  
  
"You may be of age," Giles argued, "but you're still a student, and for me to get involved with you makes me--"  
  
"What?" he said. "A pervert? A dirty old man?" He shrugged. "Out there, Giles," he said, pointing to the library doors. "That's where the monsters are. Not in here."   
  
"I wish I could be as certain as you are," Giles said, but at least he stopped talking about Xander leaving town.   
  
Xander figured he'd count that as a win, by Sunnydale standards. 


	69. still more season 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Xander is 18 at this point in canon.

"Another day, another apocalypse," should  _not_  be a saying, Xander thought, but nobody had asked him.   
  
At least it was only another  _possible_  apocalypse; if Buffy managed to stop the demon ritual before midnight, everything would be okay.   
  
If she didn't--well, that was why they were here--Willow in the chem lab working on some kind of potion that would protect them from the poison the demons secreted, him and Giles in the library, desperately looking for something that would stop the apocalypse if Buffy wasn't in time.   
  
It was 11:59, and Buffy wasn't back yet.   
  
Xander realized, suddenly, that he wasn't the only one staring at the clock, watching the second hand sweep around. Giles had said they'd know, at midnight, whether or not Buffy had succeeded--the Hellmouth would start to open if she hadn't, and they'd have to run for it.   
  
Midnight. Xander turned, looking at the library floor. Nothing happened.   
  
"She did it," Giles breathed, and Xander grinned.   
  
And then it was just the heat of the moment, he told himself, that led him to hug Giles, and temporary insanity that let it go on past the point where they could tell themselves that this was just a manly "we're not dead" hug.   
  
Xander had just decided that he could use that same insanity to excuse finding out whether kissing Giles was as good in reality as it had been in his imagination when they heard voices out in the hall.   
  
Xander was glad for the interruption. After the way Giles had jumped back when they'd heard Buffy and Willow, he figured it was better not to indulge his curiosity any farther.   
  
Any claims that the freaking out had not all been one-sided, he thought, were completely unfair and more than a little bit true.   
  


***

  
  
  
  
"So, uh. About earlier," Xander said. He didn't try to explain  _what_  about earlier; if Giles didn't know....   
  
Well, if Giles didn't know, problem solved.   
  
But Giles was cleaning his glasses, which he was pretty sure was a sign that Giles knew exactly what he was talking about. "We can just, I don't know," Xander went on. "Pretend it didn't happen."  
  
"Yes," Giles said, sounding a little relieved. But maybe, Xander thought, he sounded a little disappointed, too, and that gave him the courage to keep talking.   
  
"Or, you know--" Xander paused, sure his heart was beating loudly enough that it was like a neon "FREE MEAL HERE" sign for every vampire in the county. "We could, um, not. And that could be good, too."   
  
He almost freaked out again when Giles didn't say anything, but then the arms around him were more reassuring than any words could be. 


	70. still more S3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point in canon, Xander is 18.

Xander had done the math.   
  
With a calculator, even, because after that summer he spent redoing fifth-grade math, he didn't trust his arithmetic. He'd convinced Willow to look at the school personnel records, although he'd never tell her  _why_  he wanted to know.   
  
Giles was twenty-seven years older than him. Well, for part of the year he was twenty-eight years older, but Xander was choosing to ignore that. Twenty-seven years was bad enough.   
  
He wondered whether "Hey, in 2008, you'll only be twice my age," would convince Giles that Xander was old enough, or send him running for the hills. 


	71. S4 (slightly AU)

It was supposed to be a secret.   
  
Not forever, but for the time being, yes. Xander wanted to introduce the subject of his newly-discovered non-heterosexuality to the girls  _without_  the complications of, "Oh, yeah, and I kind of figured it out by kissing Giles." He meant to, really, but he kept putting it off; it never seemed like the right time.   
  
So Xander became the master of the cover story. Of keeping a jacket in the car to put on over his demon-claw torn shirt, so he could pretend not to be hurt and nobody would see the line of hickeys on his collarbone. Of "just happening" to have gone by Giles' place after work.   
  
Of biting his lip so hard he tasted blood when Willow started telling him he should get out more, that sure, he and Anya had broken up, but there were plenty of girls out there--because otherwise, he'd have started laughing.   
  
And then of keeping a completely straight face when he said, "Maybe I should," just to see the flash of jealousy on Giles' face, before he took a deep breath and decided now was the time to add, "but I'm kind of sure my boyfriend wouldn't like it."   
  
It was worth the stereo-surround-smack he got from Willow and Buffy.  
  
It was  _totally_  worth what he got from Giles later. 


	72. 'with a dying fall' (S7)

**'with a dying fall'**  
"That's. Um."   
  
There is no way that sentence can end that is anything he wants to hear, but instead of interrupting, beginning to stammer out his apologies, he waits. The least he owes Xander now is the willingness to listen.   
  
"I mean, okay, thinking back, I can kind of see where you might have gotten that idea," Xander goes on. "But... that's not what I meant. Not at all. So... I'm sorry?" He turns away, disappears into the house, back into the noise and the chaos that Giles knows he'd come out here to escape.   
  
That's one more thing for him to apologize for, if he were going to apologize.   
  
But there are more important things to worry about--death and destruction and a battle they can't possibly win--and he's already wasted time enough on something that won't help them survive.   
  
He lets Xander go inside, and doesn't follow.


	73. immediately post-Chosen

Xander thinks that one of these days, he's going to learn not to punch walls.  
  
He turns back to Giles, about to offer to pay for the damage to the motel room, when he remembers his  _job_  is another thing that just vanished down a sinkhole, and does it again.   
  
Giles catches his arm, pulling him away, and he's too tired to protest. He sits on the bed, face buried in his good hand while Giles bandages the other one, and wonders when he stopped being able to tell whether "didn't die" made the week a win or a loss. 


	74. post-Chosen, explicit

Xander had been--well, not joking, exactly, but not entirely serious, either, when he'd suggested Giles could come and scrub his back.   
  
Not that Giles was scrubbing his back, and not that Xander minded, either, because instead, his back was against Giles' chest, Giles' cock pressed snugly against his ass. One of Giles' hands trailed over Xander's chest and stomach, gliding over slippery wet skin; the other was slick with soap and wrapped around Xander's cock.   
  
Xander hung on to the little bar that was meant to hang your washcloth on, hoping it was mounted securely and he didn't pull it right out of the shower wall. It was the only thing keeping him from falling, after all.   
  
Then it was like Giles had read his mind, because his arm settled more securely around Xander's torso, steadying him while that hand moved relentlessly on his erection. Someone was moaning; he thought it was probably him, but when he pushed back a little against Giles, rubbing against Giles' hard cock, he couldn't be sure that it wasn't both of them.   
  
And then he didn't care, because Giles' arm around him was the only thing keeping him upright as his knees buckled and he came, the water from the shower washing the evidence away almost immediately.   
  
Once he could think again, he realized that one, Giles was still holding him; two, Giles was still hard; and three, the water was getting cold. Xander reached up and turned the water off.   
  
"You didn't finish your shower," Giles murmured in Xander's ear, and Xander grinned at the strained sound of his voice.   
  
"No," he agreed, stepping out and then tugging at Giles' hand. "But it's okay. We're both going to need another one soon anyway."   
  
He could see Giles mentally calculating whether he could afford to be  _that_  late to work, but Xander didn't worry. He knew Giles would reach the conclusion that sometimes, it was  _good_  to be the boss.   
  
Besides, after Giles had come home after ten o'clock three nights in a row, completely exhausted, Xander had gotten Andrew to schedule him for an appointment with Giles this morning that lasted until after lunchtime, at which point he could go back to work rested, fed, and--if Xander had any say in the matter--well-fucked.  
  
Devious and underhanded, possibly, but Xander was willing to be a little devious for a good cause.   
  


***

  
  
  
  
"You booked a six-hour appointment through Andrew so we could have sex?"  
  
See, if this were a TV show, Xander thought, this would be the sign for Giles to have some big revelation about how he'd been spending way too much time at work and too little time at home.   
  
This wasn't a TV show, and mostly, Giles looked pissed off.   
  
"Yeah," Xander said. "Well, not really. That was a bonus."   
  
More glaring. Xander was starting to have high-school-library flashbacks.   
  
Well, that was ten years ago, and he was a lot less stupid now. "I booked a six-hour appointment so you'd do things like sleep and eat and  _not be in your office_." He shrugged. "No big deal. I won't do it again."   
  
It wasn't a big deal, really, and he wasn't actually  _mad_.   
  
Still, that night, when Giles actually got back home before  _he_  did, and greeted Xander with, "Next time, just don't go through Andrew. The 'nudge-nudge, wink-wink, say no more!' routine he was giving me was more than anyone should have to tolerate," Xander had to admit that he might not need the  _words_ , but the appreciation in Giles' tone of voice made up for a  _lot_.


	75. post-Chosen

One thing Xander's learned in the past year is that he hates flying. His ears pop the whole time, there's never enough leg room, and he's not used to sitting still any more.   
  
He could tell Giles that, and Giles would reassign him somewhere that wouldn't involve bringing Slayers to England. He'd never have to fly again.   
  
But there's no guarantee his new assignment would be  _here_ , and Xander'd rather have cramped muscles and popping ears than give up the feeling (the one he's not ready to give a name to) of getting to baggage claim and seeing Giles waiting. 


	76. post-Chosen

If anyone had noticed on his last visit from the field, they hadn't said anything. And Xander was pretty sure they would have--after all, he'd spent about an hour riding the elevator, keeping an eye on his watch the entire time.   
  
He wouldn't have cared. It had all been for a good cause. Now, after the painfully long taxi ride and the pointedly polite greetings exchanged with people he knew couldn't stand either of them, when they  _finally_  got into the elevator, Xander knew exactly how many seconds he had to kiss Giles before they reached the next floor. 


	77. post-Chosen

"They do have sun here, right?" Xander asked, looking out the window.   
  
He didn't have to turn around to know what kind of look Giles was giving him. "Yes, Xander, they have sun in other places than California."  
  
"Hey, they had sun in Africa, too. It's just  _here_  I'm wondering about." He grinned. "What with the clouds and the rain and the--"   
  
That was the moment the sun picked to come out from behind the clouds, and he forgot what he was about to say. "Come on," he said, instead. "It's a nice day. Let's go outside."  
  
He didn't realize until they were out the front door that he was holding Giles' hand. In public.   
  
Well, if Giles didn't mind, then neither did he.


	78. post-Chosen

"So, can I play a record?" Xander called.   
  
He could hear Giles turn the water off, and then he appeared in the doorway, drying his hands on a towel. Xander grinned; Giles always seemed to get extra-domestic when Xander was here, lately. He suspected it was all part of the Rupert Giles Patented "Get Xander to Request a Transfer" Plan.   
  
"What did you just say?" Giles asked. "I can't have heard it correctly."   
  
"I asked if I could put on a record."  
  
"Not a CD?" Giles asked suspiciously.   
  
"Nope. Actual vinyl."   
  
Giles smiled and agreed, just as Xander knew he would; Xander waited until he'd gone back into the kitchen to turn the stereo on.   
  
Okay. Maybe he should have mentioned to Giles that he'd discovered that afternoon that Cibo Matto had released stuff on vinyl here, but if Giles got to relive his wasted youth, then so did Xander. 


	79. post-Chosen

  
Moonlight was supposed to be romantic, but the full moon just reminded them they should remind the Slayers to be alert for werewolf activity.   
  
Romantic evenings in front of the fire were rare, with Xander out patrolling with the greener Slayers, and Giles on call most of the time.   
  
But Giles found--well, got Andrew to find--a place online that shipped genuine American junk food overseas, and Xander spent his day off going through secondhand record stores to find an album he knew Giles wanted, so Xander figured they had this whole "romance" thing down, even without the moonlight.


	80. post-Chosen

This, Xander thinks one morning, is the part where things get scary.   
  
They've gotten past the flirting and the confusion and the confessions. They've gotten past the time when they're spending every available second in bed--not, he adds, wanting to make this perfectly clear even if he's only talking to himself, that the sex isn't still great. It is, definitely, but they've moved to the point where there are some evenings when they feel like watching a movie, and some nights where what they really want more than anything is eight hours of sleep.   
  
This is the part where Xander looks up from his bowl of cereal and sees Giles--well, sees the newspaper, anyway, and a hand reaching from behind it for his cup of tea--and realizes that he's going to spend most mornings of the next thirty or forty years looking at that newspaper.   
  
This is the part where he ought to be freaking out; "forever" isn't a word he's been good with before now.  
  
He's okay with it this time. 


	81. The Elephant in the Living Room

When Xander thought back on it, one of the reasons he'd been so convinced the man really  _was_  him was that no one but him would know that the fights he and Anya had in the visions should feel so dishonest.

They were dishonest in the way that every fight he and Anya had ever had about Buffy was dishonest, and that was what made the future the guy showed him seem so real. They always fought about Buffy, and they always pretended that he hadn't got over Buffy a long time ago, so that now he just  _loved_  her, the way he loved Willow and Dawn and now Tara, and definitely  _not_  Spike; and not the way he loved Anya.

There was a name missing from that list, but there always was. They didn't fight about Giles. Anya never  _once_  said a word about Giles, not like that, because she'd been a vengeance demon for over a thousand years, and she knew that saying things could make them true.

No, not true; they were already true. Saying it might make something  _happen_ ; if Anya had once thrown it in his face that he was in love with Giles--and he knew she knew; he could tell by the way she watched him when he and Giles were talking, and by the way she used to cling to him when he came back from hanging out at Giles' place, and by the really disturbing fact that she'd tried to make him watch gay porn with her, claiming she really wanted to see it, and had apparently parted with the money to cover overseas postage, because the actors all had British accents, and Xander was  _not_  telling her that he'd actually kept the tape instead of throwing it out like he'd told her he was going to--if Anya had thrown any of that in his face, then he might have had to do something about it, and neither of them wanted that.

Anya didn't want it because she was in love with him, and Xander... well, he loved Anya, too, he thought, but that wasn't why he didn't want to have to do anything about Giles, it was because he really,  _really_  didn't like rejection, and he knew that was what was going to happen.

He'd only been painfully obvious for the past five years, and Giles hadn't said a word. He'd consoled himself at first, telling himself he was in high school, and Giles was just being a grownup, but then he'd graduated, and... nothing. And he'd gone away for the summer, and come back, and still nothing, and there'd kept on being nothing, and he honestly could take a hint.

And besides, Giles had left, and that was about as clear an "I don't love you, Xander" message as you could get.

So there was no need to do anything about it, and he and Anya could have just kept on not-fighting about him being in love with Giles forever, if it hadn't been for those visions of what their future was going to be like. He'd let this turn him bitter and lonely and mean, if he had to, but he wasn't going to let it make him hurt Anya. Not that he wasn't hurting Anya now, but at least it wasn't every day for the rest of their lives.

And so now he was in this cheap motel, because he couldn't go home, and he had two weeks off work for the honeymoon he wasn't going to be going on, and he was pretty sure he'd spend a lot of it writing letters and throwing them away, and never quite finishing dialing an international phone call.

If he never made it real, then he could ignore it, and pretend that somewhere across the Atlantic, Giles was hearing the news about the wedding and wishing Xander would call.

**Author's Note:**

> [me on tumblr](https://mireille719.tumblr.com)


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